Tethered
by oldmule
Summary: Harry and Ruth are handcuffed together!
1. Chapter 1

**Short first chapter. Hopefully I'll be more inspired anon. Set post 8.8.

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**

"You two, hold your hands out!" came the harsh command.

"You don't need her, let her go."

The baseball bat crunched into Harry's ribs but it was Ruth who seemingly exhibited the pain.

"No," she exclaimed.

One of the hooded men grabbed Harry's left wrist cuffing it and dragging him, still doubled over, back to Ruth. He roughly took her cold right hand and slapped the other cuff on her.

The ringleader laughed as he stamped on their simless mobiles and threw their coats into the back of the van. "Don't worry it's meant to be a very temperate minus four tonight." He was still laughing as his henchmen jumped into the van. "Goodbye Harry. Take care of yourself."

The van drove away. Finally it disappeared towards the horizon, merging into the snow covered trees.

They were alone.

Alone in the middle of nowhere.

It was about an hour or two to nightfall and the temperature was already sliding.

"Do you have any idea where we are, Harry?"

"None whatsoever," he grunted whilst straightening up clutching his ribs with his free hand.

Ruth scanned the horizon. They needed shelter. Every direction looked the same, open heath and trees.

"Right," she said decisively and headed in the direction the sun was setting. She had forgotten the cuffs. Harry was dragged after her with a groan.

"Oh god, sorry Harry."

He smiled a pained smile but managed little else other than to start walking in the direction she had just selected. They walked side by side, wrists locked, the back of their hands brushing together. The trees ahead in the distance, the cold enveloping them.

"We'll find somewhere to shelter. There must be a shack, or a cave, or if not we could build something," said Ruth.

"You were either in the Girl Guides or you've been watching too much Ray Mears."

"I did get most of my badges, thank you very much."

Harry laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, really," he said unconvincingly, "I was just thinking that I would rather be chained to you in your guides uniform that Ray Mears, anytime."

And on they walked.


	2. Chapter 2

They were both well aware how little time they had left. Neither spoke about it, they simply walked on, but dusk was upon them. The walk through the trees was slow and uncomfortable and more than anything astoundingly cold. They were hardly dressed for it.

"Ruth," exclaimed Harry, pointing into a slightly less dense clump of trees.

She stopped and peered into the now semi darkness.

Never had an old hut looked so good.

She smiled at him through the shivers and they turned as one with as much renewed energy as they had remaining.

The door, though that was something of a loose term, was lifted open by Harry, who winced a little, his ribs still very sore. The interior would have been described as dilapidated and grubby and unwelcome had it not been practically dark and freezing outside. As it was, it was a beautiful thing.

It had probably been used by a forester or ranger in the past. There was a grate, an old bed which didn't look like it would support anyone's weight, a near empty shelf on the wall, a small cupboard and an old newspaper on the floor. Ruth picked it up.

"Apparently Bush had been reelected," she announced, showing him he headline.

"Oh, dear god, now we are in trouble," said Harry whilst assessing what he had to work with. He stepped towards the bed, Ruth had no choice but to follow. He raised his foot and stood on the side of the frame, there was a dry crack and the bed collapsed. Ruth looked at Harry.

"That helped," she said.

"We need a fire."

"Oh, yes," she realised.

"Unless you want me to burn the front door?" added Harry.

She simply looked at him.

He smiled.

"You see if there's anything in the cupboard we can use or eat and I'll break up the frame."

She looked at him again and raised her arm, "Think you're forgetting something."

His arm dangled alongside hers.

"Ok, Ruth, you hold and I'll stamp."

A few minutes later and they had obliterated the somewhat rotten frame of the bed and had a reasonable pile of firewood. Harry began to fill the grate with a crosshatch of slats. Ruth knelt at his side and with her free hand started to ball up single sheets of the newspaper which he then stuffed into the gaps around the slats.

"There," he said, satisfied. "Ok, Ruth over to you."

He looked at her expectantly.

She looked perplexed.

"You were the Girl Guide….we need fire."

She continued to look blankly at him.

"Aren't you meant to rub two sticks together or something? Come on, or didn't you get that badge?"

Ruth decided he really could be quite irritating.

"Right," she said trying to remember "we need two sticks…"

"I just said that," he interrupted.

"And something that will act as a flint," she looked around, vainly and then moved to the cupboard, the last hope. Inside there was a tin of peaches, a single candle, an old grey blanket and two carrier bags.

She sighed.

"How about this?" Ruth turned her head to see Harry holding a silver lighter in his hand, with a smug grin.

"Harry!" Ruth wasn't sure whether she was yet more irritated by him, or loved him. She decided not to think about it further. She was too cold.

"You don't smoke."

"No, but it's also a holder for a microdot and microfilm. Never really though I'd use it as an actual lighter."

"Well, for god's sake Harry could we stop playing games and light the bloody fire before we freeze to death!"

"Sorry," he said, not actually looking that remorseful.

Within moments the paper was alight and slowly but surely the wood too was taking hold.

"Time for a drink, Ruth."

"Don't tell me you've got a flask of whiskey stashed in your pockets as well?"

"No. But I think we need something."

He picked up the old tin cup from the shelf and headed outside. Ruth was dragged with him.

"Harry!"

"Come on be quick, or we'll let all the heat out."

"What heat?" she muttered, there may have been a fire but she still wouldn't go as far as saying she felt much heat yet.

Harry ran the cup through the snow in a vague attempt to clean it and then packed it full of fresh snow, compacting it as much as possible with his hand.

They then practically ran back indoors.

He put the cup near the fire to melt and then he stood and looked at Ruth.

"How are you doing?"

"I've been better."

"Are you cold?"

She looked at him. It was the most ridiclulous question she had ever been asked.

"Yes, of course you are," he said. "Sorry, Ruth, I would have gone outside myself but you know how it is," he said and lifted his tethered arm.

"Bet you'd change your mind now and you'd rather have Ray Mears?" she said.

"Not a chance," said Harry and turned to the fire, pulling her to face it too. They both felt its heat start to grow and their skin begin to prick as hot and cold collided. "Other side," commanded Harry and walked around Ruth to make sure their backs were facing the fire.

"I'm not a piece of toast," she protested but he just laughed.

They both stood in silence, listening to the wood crackle. They were tired, they were hungry but they were together. After several moments Harry was aware of Ruth looking at the single mattress now lying on the floor.

"You're right," said Harry, "we should try and get some sleep."

"Not exactly the Savoy, is it?" she smiled.

"No, but we've got a mattress, a blanket, a fire and each other. That's something."

"Yes," she said quietly, "that's something."

"Lie down, Ruth."

"Harry, you're being very…."

"Commanding?" he offered.

"Demanding," she said.

"Oh, should I stop?"

She considered, "No."

"Then lie down, Ruth, I need to keep you warm."

**More to come**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all lovely reviews.

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**

"Ruth, I need you to unbutton your top."

Ruth looked at him. For someone who wasn't very forthright, as he himself had admitted, this was a leap forward. That and the fact it was minus four outside and still not exactly tropical inside.

"I mean…it's just..it would be better if…" he blundered.

This was more like the Harry she knew.

"If we put what's left of the newspaper under our clothes it'll maintain the heat."

"Oh, I see," said Ruth.

They both looked seemingly abashed.

Harry handed her the front page. She paused, looking at it before reaching for her blouse buttons.

"I'm not sure I fancy having George Bush against my chest," she said.

Harry was lost. He would willingly have swapped placed with 'W' at this one moment in time and that was not something he would ever have expected himself to say. That was occupying his mind as he struggled not to think about where the back of his hand was now trailing. They both lay on their backs almost hanging off the small mattress. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling as Ruth undid her buttons, her right hand moving down her chest, Harry's left dragged with it. He kept his fingers curled resisting any temptation he may have felt to just reach out and touch her.

And temptation there was a plenty.

She stuffed the paper into her blouse. Harry wondered the last time he's had to exert quite so much self control. He felt no cold, he felt no thirst and he felt no hunger…except for her.

"Your turn," said Ruth.

Harry was lost. A headful of thoughts overwhelmed him.

"Come on Harry, I saved you the back pages."

Suddenly he realised what she was talking about.

"Right," he hesitated. And then he too began to unbutton his shirt."

Ruth watched him out of the corner of her eye. She watched her hand as her fingers trailed thin air above his hand and wished she could turn it around and feel his chest under her fingers.

He turned to look at her as he was redoing the buttons, an old story about the England football team now adorning his chest. He saw Ruth watching him. She blushed and he smiled.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her. But he didn't.

He reached out with his free right hand and pulled the blanket over them.

"Come here," he said gently and she turned onto her side to face him.

"Harry, I've got all the heat from the fire," she said. He had made sure that it was her back that was to the fire, he would feel the cold against his back.

"It's fine, Ruth," he replied turning to face her.

They lay on their sides their tethered arms against the bed, between them, awkward and in the way. He looked at her lovingly.

"Are you still cold, Ruth?"

"My back's like toast but the rest of me's a bit chillier."

He very slowly and gently twisted his cuffed hand around and took her cold fingers in his and moved his arm and hers to his chest. His right arm slid around her back and he pulled her closer.

"Any better?" he whispered.

Ruth didn't reply but he saw her nod as her eyes darted from his face to his chest and back. She closed her eyes. He smiled. And then he felt her free arm hesitantly wind around his waist and settle in the small of his back.

They were hungry, tired and lost but they both shut their eyes and felt a contentment no one could have imagined.

**More anon, if you're still enjoying.**


	4. Chapter 4

It was about 3am and despite the fire, the hut was cold, very cold. Part of the problem was the gap that was the door, the other the dwindling fire, it needed more wood.

Harry was chilled to the bone, his back had born the brunt of the cold. What little heat he had had, he had given to Ruth, willingly. She, thankfully, though not warm was certainly not cold. He was glad of that. He wondered what to do about the fire. He could throw on some more wood but then he'd have to wake her and he didn't want to do that. He decided that if he could only inch himself a little closer then perhaps he could reach it. Ruth was lying parallel to the fire, he the opposite side of her. The wooden slats were near the fire but by her feet, so that even if he got up without waking her and walked around where her head was he still couldn't reach it. He decided on a course of action and told himself it was for both their good and if not they may freeze and not wake up in the morning. He did not let himself think for one moment that he was indulging himself in any ungentlemanly conduct, thinking merely of the unfortunate results if he failed and not the fact that he was now practically on top of Ruth, whom he had rolled gently onto her back. He clenched his jaw shut to stop his chattering teeth and propped himself on his left arm where he was cuffed to Ruth, he balanced himself over her with his right foot near the fire and reached out his right hand at full stretch. He was within inches of reaching it when Ruth moaned below him. He froze. She sighed but did not wake up. He strained once more and this time his fingers found the large former bed leg he wanted so badly. He dragged it into the fire and hoped it would take and not snuff out the remaining embers. Thankfully it was so rotten it began to burn almost immediately. Harry didn't want to go through this again so he reached for another piece of a similar size and relished the crackle as the flames began to lick around it and he gloried in the warmth on his face. He heard a gasp. It was Ruth wide eyed below him.

"Harry?"

"Ruth I'm…" as he said it his foot, which was keeping him balanced, slipped and his weight which had been suspended was released onto an even more surprised Ruth.

"Ruth I'm sorry" he said trying now to roll of her as soon as possible, his mortification that she might think he was trying to take advantage of her overcoming his desire to actually take advantage her.

She said nothing as he rolled onto the mattress. She had enjoyed the weight of him pressing down on her even if it had been a surprise.

"It's not what you think, Ruth…it was the fire…it was going out and getting cold."

"Cold-er." She corrected.

"Yes, considerably colder," he acknowledged pleased she didn't seem to be too upset.

"And I'm guessing it would have been too much to wake me and ask me to throw some more fuel on?"

"You looked so peaceful," he said simply and very endearingly.

She smiled ,"ever the gentleman, Harry"

"Well, until I fell on top of you, that kind of blows that image somewhat," he laughed and shivered.

Ruth moved her free hand to his chest and as her fingers reached him she gasped again.

"Harry you're frozen."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," her hands were reaching out to touch various parts of him now, he would have enjoyed it if he could have felt anything.

"You need to be by the fire right now. And don't argue," she added as he went to protest. "Come on," she said and began to pull him back on top of her, "we need to swap places."

And so with the fire now roaring Harry found himself once more on top of Ruth as she wriggled around beneath him to make room for him by the fire.

He found he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"Are you trying to take advantage of me, Ruth?" She looked up from her wrigglings into his face right above her, his voice warmer than the fire and her reaction hotter than the flames.

For a moment she didn't want to say anything she just wanted to reach her lips up and kiss him.

He smiled and his eyes were full of devilment and possibility.

"Harry, shut up and just get warm or I'll be lugging round a frozen block on the end of my arm tomorrow."

"It's okay, Ruth I'm felling much warmer already," he still hadn't moved.

She lunged as much as she could to her right and shrugged him off, towards the fire.

"There, finally" she grunted.

"Sorry, I'm too heavy," a now repentant Harry.

"No," corrected Ruth, "I wasn't uncomfortable" Her eyes flicked to his and away again.

"That's good," he whispered.

"We just have to get you warm, Harry." And she put her free arm under his head and as well as she could held him with their tethered wrists. She wound her legs through and around his so that he would gain as much of her heat as possible.

"Okay?" she asked.

From her chest came the slightly muffled answer, "Yes, Ruth, I'm feeling much better, now."

She smiled. He smiled.

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**No idea quite where I'm going with this but sure it'll go somewhere, eventually!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ridiculously short chapter but I'm sorry, I couldn't resist!**

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Ruth woke up with Harry's hand on her chest. It wasn't as though he had much choice as it was his tethered hand and hers was gathered to her collarbone, his relaxed with sleep had fallen palm down on her right breast. She looked at him to check he was most definitely asleep.

He was.

She left it there.

And closed her eyes.

Harry opened his.

His fingers strained to move, to explore but he didn't want to give himself away and so he stayed very still and breathed deeply.

Soon they were both asleep again.


	6. Chapter 6

"Morning," whispered Harry.

"Morning" smiled Ruth sleepily as her eyes glanced down to make sure Harry's hand was now somewhere decent. It was, though she blushed a little to discover his fingers entwined in hers.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

She moved a little and grimaced.

"Stiff," was her answer.

Harry flexed his neck, "me too, but at least we survivied the night."

They both sat up, Ruth rubbed her eyes, forgetting for a moment as Harry's left hand went with her.

"Breakfast?" he asked with a ruffled look.

"Poached egg on toast and a nice pot of tea please," requested Ruth.

"I'm sorry madam, eggs are off this morning, too cold for the hens, I'm afraid."

"Oh, that's a shame."

"Could I, however, tempt you into a lovely tin of peaches and a refreshing drink of water?"

"That sounds just wonderful," she said and beamed at him.

He thought about telling her how much he loved her, but he didn't.

They sipped the water. Harry pulled the ring pull on the tin and offered her the first pick. The first slice oozed down her throat and only then did she realise how truly hungry she was. There was something strangely intimate about the two of them sitting on the floor, facing each other sharing the tin of peaches and sipping from the same cup.

As much as they tried to eat slowly the tin was soon empty. Harry insisted she drank the remaining juice, Ruth insisted he share it. And so they did.

"We'd better go soon," said Harry.

Ruth nodded, unwilling to leave their shelter but knowing that was nothing left to burn besides the door and walls. Besides, no one would find them here.

"Ruth, take your boots off."

"Harry, you seem to be developing a nasty habit of keep telling me to undress."

He glanced at her and then away, he didn't think it was a nasty habit.

"No smart retort? You must be tired."

He thought the safest thing was to say nothing and instead handed her the two plastic bags from the cupboard.

Ruth reached to put the empty peach tin into one of the bags

"No," said Harry smiling, "put them on your feet. They'll help keep you warm and dry."

She was on the verge of telling him that he was the most thoughtful, wonderful man she had ever known, but she didn't.

They set off back into the woods, following the path they had taken the night before. This time, however, they had the blanket draped over both their shoulders and beneath it Ruth gently took Harry's hand.

He tried not to, but he couldn't help looking at her.

"Well, it seems better than our knuckles knocking together the entire way," she stated practically.

"Of course," he replied and smiled just a little.


	7. Chapter 7

**Bit longer this time. Inane plot in the middle but gets fluffier later.

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**

They walked for hours, clearing the forest and now walking on the snowy uplands that rolled on. Occasionally they would stop and have a brief rest, but they knew they had to find some sign of life, or at least more shelter by nightfall.

As they walked they either enjoyed the silence, or chatted about a variety of things, work, life, travel, literature, food - they talked a lot about food and what they would eat whenever they found their way back to civilisation.

"Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding," announced Harry.

"Sausage and mash and lots of onion gravy," said Ruth, "that's what I'd like and a room with a big, hot, steaming bath, and feather pillows and double glazing and a cup of tea and a great big 15 tog feather duvet."

Harry laughed, "Anything else, Ruth?"

"Yes, and…" she tailed off realising how close in her enthusiasm she had been to saying 'and you Harry'.

"And?"

"And…Sticky toffee pudding."

"Well, let's hope we can find you somewhere with all those things."

"Let's hope so," she added quietly.

* * *

"Harry, it'll be dark soon."

"I know," he said.

"Have you still no idea where we are?"

"No, though there is something familiar about the landscape here."

They walked on.

And then shots rang out.

Harry pulled Ruth to the ground.

"Shit," he exclaimed.

"Is it them, do you think they've been waiting for us?"

"No, they left us for dead. I think I know where we are though."

"Where, Harry?"

"Northumberland."

"Northumberland," she repeated.

"Yes, the Otterburn Ranges. It's a military training zone and it looks like they've dropped us right in the middle of it."

They kept their heads down and hid behind an outcrop of rocks. No one had come near them but the volley of fire had continued close by for at least half an hour. Finally it died away and they heard louder artillery in the distance.

"Let's go," said Harry, "There's no way of letting anyone know we're here. We need to get off this moor."

They strode purposefully downhill, ever watchful of the darkening sky and always listening out for the sound of fire.

"Look!" Ruth didn't even need to point, he had seen it too. A light in the distance. In fact more than one.

"Come on," he said and pulled her after him.

* * *

An hour later the door of "The Dog and Duck' opened and the handful of locals who were within glanced up. They were used to seeing hikers, they were used to seeing unprepared casual walkers caught out by the elements but these two were beyond all that. Ruth alone was wrapped in the blanket, it covered the cuffs around their wrists. She looked bedraggled, muddy and exhausted as did the man with her, though he still had an air of authority about him. They both looked frozen to the bone.

"Evening'" said Harry to the locals.

"Evening," they replied.

He walked to the bar with Ruth and looked at the landlord, "I need to use your phone."

There was something about both his appearance and manner that meant he was not someone to be ignored or denied. The man nodded and handed him the cordless phone that was propped behind the bar.

As Harry dialled, the landlord turned to Ruth with a warm smile, "What can I get you, pet? You look like you could do with a drink."

"You don't know how right you are," she said, "for me a pint of water and a brandy, please."

"And for your husband?"

Harry glanced up just as the phone was picked up at the other end, "It's Harry", he told them as Ruth smiled and said, "He'll have a pint of water and a scotch please. "

The landlord did not query their slightly peculiar choice of drink but simply said, "coming up" and turned away.

"Harry was reassuring someone on the grid that both he and Ruth were fine and passing on what information he could about the group who had taken them.

The two pints of water were placed on the bar and Ruth immediately began to devour one greedily.

Harry was talking to Dimitri. "Listen we'll rest up here tonight and get back to you tomorrow, but I need you to do something for me first, we've got no money and no ID."

The landlord arrived at that rather inopportune moment with the brandy and whiskey.

Harry handed the phone to him, "He'll explain," was all he said and reached for the water as Ruth had done.

* * *

The door opened and they were shown into what was to them a five star room. It was warm, it had a double bed, not just a mattress, it had a bathroom, a bath and a large sash window.

"Well, you've got everything but the double glazing, Ruth." Harry smiled.

"I'll bring your food up in about an hour if that's okay?"

"Yes, thank you that will be lovely" smiled Ruth, her face muddy but radiant, glowing from the heat of finally being warm.

"Thank you," said Harry.

They were alone again.

"There's a bath, Ruth," Harry was glancing into the bathroom.

She beamed and made a b line for it, turning the taps and putting in the plug. Then she stood, realisation dawning, Harry stood next to her.

She looked at the bath and she looked at Harry and then she looked at her wrist.

"Ah," he said.

"Yes," she replied, not daring to look at him for any longer than a split second.

Ruth was looking at the bath wondering if she had to forgo it, or if she dared to have a bath in front of him, or if, in fact, he might suggest them sharing it. She could feel the heat in her face becoming even more pronounced.

And then….

The cuff fell from her wrist.

She looked at it and at Harry. He had a paperclip in his hand and was working on the cuff around his own wrist.

"Harry, where did you get that paperclip from?" she asked quietly.

"My pocket," he said.

She looked at him and at the bath again.

The remaining cuff swung free and Harry rubbed his wrist.

"So you could actually have released these at any time?" she said, taking the cuffs from him.

He didn't answer but the twinkle in his eye said everything.

"Harry?" she began to walk slowly towards him.

"Well, I didn't realise I had it at first and then I thought that maybe they weren't so bad after all," he offered.

Ruth's newly free right hand came up to his chest and she began to push him lightly back towards the bed.

"Did you now?" she was still walking him backwards. Suddenly he could go no further, the back of his knees against the bed.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked playfully.

"Are you forgiven?" Ruth repeated and pushed him back on to the bed.

She reached for the bottom of his shirt and began to pull it from his trousers, "Well, let's see…." she too was playful.

She lifted his arms ready to pull the shirt from over his head.

CLICK.

"No Harry, you are not bloody forgiven." She shouted and turned for the bathroom.

Harry was left handcuffed to the headboard.

"But, Ruth…" he shouted.

The bathroom door was slammed shut.


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth got out of the bath.

It had been the best, most wonderful bath in the world.

She felt like new.

She had been furious with Harry, furious that he had taken advantage of her.

She thought about lying in front of the fire with him.

She thought about his weight on top of her.

She thought about his hand on her breast.

She thought about a lot of things and the more she thought about them the less furious she became. In fact now she found herself thinking about the fact that he was in the next room tied to the bed. She picked up the paperclip and tried to be mad with him afresh. It didn't work.

She put on the spare clothes, belonging to the landlord's wife, a pair of jeans, a loose blouse and a pair of slip on shoes. She looked at herself in the mirror. Considering everything they'd been through she thought she looked pretty good. She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

Not unsurprisingly Harry was still where she had left him. He looked tired. He looked crestfallen. He looked bereft. He looked dirty.

She walked over to him.

"Ruth, I'm so sorry."

She felt any anger remaining fade away. She loved him. She had loved been tethered to him, it had felt strangely right. It had felt like the physical realisation of something that had been there all along. She was and always would be tied to him. It didn't need handcuffs to prove that.

However, she said none of this.

She leant over the bed and placed the paperclip in his right hand.

"Get cleaned up, Harry."

And then she walked away to the table by the window and looked out at the snow as she sipped the brandy that she had brought with her.

She didn't look up when she heard Harry get up from the bed, she didn't look round when she heard him hesitate behind her, she didn't react when she heard the bathroom door shut. But after a moment she smiled.

Harry ran the bath. He had only found the paperclip that morning before he had opened the peaches, it had been caught in the lining of his jacket pocket. He wished he had told her now.

He felt every ache in his bones, his ribs were black and blue and his heart was heavy.

There was a knock on the door and Ruth opened it. The landlady stood there with two humungous plates of food. "Jeff, asked me to bring these up," she said and smiled.

"Thank you," said Ruth, "It smells wonderful and thank you for the clothes too."

"No problem, luvvie. I've got some outside for your husband. They're just some casual ones, if that's okay?"

"That's fine," said Ruth, "thanks again."

She took the clothes before the door closed and crossed to the bathroom. She knocked on the door and without waiting for an answer she opened it only enough for her arm to snake through the door with the clothes.

"Harry, some clean clothes. And the food's here."

Harry wrapped in a towel took the clothes from her and opened the door.

"Ruth, please forgive me."

Ruth looked startled. She looked serious and a little fierce. He thought he was very far from being forgiven. "Thanks", he said about the clothes and closed the door.

Ruth was startled. Harry in a towel would have affected her come what may but what she was really stunned by was the severity of bruising around his ribs and the scars on his chest and shoulder. He looked like he had been through enough battles to last a lifetime.

He opened the door and came out dressed in black jeans and a jumper.

He sat at the table.

"I forgive you Harry, now eat, please."

**More still to come.**


	9. Chapter 9

The meal was quiet. They were both ravenous. They ate with need. Ruth ate with relish, Harry with necessity.

Ruth finished first.

She sat back, replete.

"Do you still wish you'd had roast beef?" she asked.

"No, yours was a good choice, Ruth."

He was still not himself, even though she had forgiven him.

"Harry, when did you find that paperclip?"

"This morning before breakfast."

"Not last night?"

"No, Ruth, I swear. Not last night."

"Why didn't you tell me this morning then?"

"Because…."

She waited.

And waited.

"I was afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Not something you'd expect me to say, Ruth?"

"No, not really."

A moment.

"What were you afraid of Harry?"

A moment.

"Afraid of losing you. Afraid of losing the intimacy I'd found with you. Afraid of being apart from you."

She said nothing, deeply moved.

He worried he had said too much but now he had started he couldn't stop.

"I'd go through a thousand freezing nights as long as I could keep you warm and safe, Ruth. As long as I could hold you in my arms. As long as I could breathe you in. You're all the warmth I've ever really needed."

She still said nothing.

"I've loved you for so long and I didn't want to give you up. And I was about to tell you when we started walking but then you held my hand and I knew you wouldn't if I took the cuffs off and I just couldn't do it. And now I've let you down and if you want me to see if there's another room free then of course I will."

He stopped suddenly.

Ruth sighed.

"I won't be long," she said finally and left the room.

Harry knew she was going to ask about that other room.

* * *

Ruth returned.

Harry was gazing sadly out of the window.

In one hand she held a bottle of scotch and in the other a small clear bottle and something in a small plastic bag.

"Do they have a room?" he asked, without looking up.

"I can't ask them for another room, Harry. They think we're married."

He looked at her.

She smiled and poured him a large glass of whiskey.

"Have a drink of that and take your jumper off."

The glass stopped on the way to his lips.

"I'm sorry," he had clearly misheard her.

"You heard me, Harry. It's my turn tonight. Take your jumper off."

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**A chapter or two to go, I think.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Dislaimers by the way and thanks to all who have reviewed and thrown in a few comments which have sparked some ideas!

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**

Harry decided Ruth was right, he needed a drink first and so he swilled back the scotch before peeling off his jumper, which was not without some discomfort.

"Now lie on the bed," instructed Ruth.

He did so.

His eyes were fixed on her. Finally she turned and moved to him, rolling up her sleeves.

She sat besides him on the bed.

"Witch hazel" she said, "for the bruising. It's probably a bit late for it but who knows, it may help."

She soaked some of the cotton wool she had and began slowly and gently to rub it in small circles across Harry's battered ribs.

He was speechless. He made to say something, to tell her she didn't have to do this, that no one had ever done this for him before, not even Jane, to tell her he was fine but she stopped him.

"I told you, Harry. It's my turn."

"Your turn for what?"

"My turn to look after you. Now, shush, and just relax."

He was quiet. He thought about closing his eyes but firstly he didn't want to fall asleep and secondly watching Ruth administering to him with such care, such delicacy was too rare and beautiful a thing to miss.

She took her time and waited to see what he would do. She had hoped he would close his eyes but he didn't and they never left her. She found she didn't mind.

When she had bathed all the bruises around his ribs, she reached for the plastic bag and took another bottle from it.

Harry looked curiously at her.

"Fortunately, the landlady, Helen, has quite a stock of lotions and potions," she smiled as she took the top off the bottle.

"It's bio-oil. Good for scars." She knew his scars were probably long past help but it was more about her need to do this for him than anything else.

She rubbed the oil between her hands and began to massage it into his chest and shoulders. Neither of them said anymore for a considerable time. Ruth's hands were warm, firm, yet delicate as they ran over muscle and scar tissue.

She traced the lines of the marks and scars upon him. Harry watched her still, afraid some part of her would be repulsed by the patchwork of old wounds. Her face revealed no such thing merely concentration, determination and he thought, he hoped…love.

Eventually she told him to turn over and she began on his back. Her hands were firmer now and the aches and pains he had felt began to subside. He couldn't see her so he closed his eyes and relaxed and imagined her face behind him.

"Harry?"

"Mmmm," he moaned.

"You don't need to be afraid."

She paused.

"You've lost nothing. Nor will you. Don't you see, it doesn't need a pair of handcuffs to bind us together? We always have been. We've always felt the other one pulling at us, we've always moved as though there were something tying us, as though we were always bound one to the other. And we are. Maybe the handcuffs did help us get past a certain stage but we don't need them to be close now."

She waited for him to reply but there was nothing.

She wondered if he were still waiting for her to go on.

And then she concluded he was asleep.

She smiled to herself at the irony that she was finally telling him how she felt and he had slept through it.

"I do love you, Harry. More than you'll ever know. More than I thought myself capable."

The movement of her hands slowed and she stopped massaging his back.

She looked at him lying there and felt so full of love for him that it hurt her. She reached for the back of his neck and played with his hair.

And then she sat very still in the quiet room, the sounds of the pub downstairs far away.

"Don't stop, Ruth, it feels good."

She looked back at him as he began to turn to face her.

"Have you been awake all the time?"

He smiled a gentle, beautiful smile and nodded.

And then he reached up an arm and cradled her face in his palm treasuring the sight of her.

"I love you, Ruth."

She smiled at him and he felt warm for the first time in days.

She slowly, very, very slowly leant down to him and ran her lips from his ear, across his rough cheek until she found his mouth. She breathed him in and he her and then they kissed. Harry's left arm wound around her waist and suddenly he pulled her powerfully across him and on to the bed besides him, his lips never leaving hers.

His hands ran along her sides, pushing her arms up and over the pillows.

Click.

"Harry?"

He looked at her.

She looked at him and then at her hands cuffed to the headboard.

"What are you doing?"

"Sshhh, Ruth," he whispered, "now, it's my turn."

He smiled at her and let his lips fall to her neck, "My turn to please you."

The words dripped into her ear as his lips moved on to the nape of her neck, her collarbone, her chest and as his fingers began to work their way along the buttons of her shirt she closed her eyes and relaxed.

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**Probably an epilogue to come, if anyone fancies it, though I don't know what it might be yet.**


	11. Chapter 11

**You all seem quite keen on this fic so I've extended it by a couple of chapters. Here's the first. Short, but hopefully a little sweet.

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**

The young officer, Daniel James, was a little nervous, he'd never had to drive such a senior figure before. He'd heard of the head of MI5's Section D. The last thing he expected was to have to deliver him and one of his senior officers all the way down to London.

He had been warned to take good care of them and to be aware that they had been through a physical and mental ordeal over the last few days and had indeed been lucky to survive.

He thought they must breed them tough in Section D because what he had seen of them suggested no ordeal whatsoever.

Harry and Ruth sat in the back of the car and for 323 miles tried not to smile. They looked at each other little and spoke little, aware of Daniel in the front and his concern for them. They chose to look out of their respective windows, a smile always trying to out itself and their eyes sparkling with something Daniel had failed to identify. They seemed much engrossed by the passing scenery and he wondered if they were reliving their capture. In once sense he was right. They looked out of their windows and they saw the night before, they watched their pleasure, their love, their joy as if they were watching it on screen.

And they tried not to smile.

They may be silent, thought Daniel, but they don't look unhappy.

What he didn't see in his mirror was their hands on the seat between them. Hands that never stopped dancing around each other for 323 miles. Hands that stroked and caressed and entwined. He didn't see Harry's finger trace ILU on Ruth's palm. He didn't see Ruth try not to smile. He didn't see Ruth trace U2 on Harry's palm. And he didn't see Harry try not to smile.

They didn't look like two senior figures, they didn't look like they'd barely survived. They looked kind of normal. Jeans, shirt, jumper. They looked at ease.

Daniel hoped he could be as tough as them.

"Here we are, sir, Thames House."

"Thank you, Daniel," said Harry.

"Yes thank you," said Ruth, "it was a wonderful drive." And she meant it.


	12. Chapter 12

The pod doors opened in perfect synchronicity and Ruth and Harry stepped from them. The team stood to greet them, relieved and happy they were alive and well.

"Briefing Room, now," said Harry not pausing for any sentimentality.

Both he and Ruth turned as one and walked away, followed by the rest.

Harry proceeded to debrief them on what had happened over the previous few days and their abduction. It was not an honest and full debrief. It missed out several salient facts. Their handcuffing together and the full circumstances of the night in the "Dog and Duck'. On a need to know basis they most definitely didn't need to know any of that.

Ruth was sat next to him but she could have been sat at the other end of the building and felt him.

He was aware of her, aware of her breathing, the expression on her face, he didn't need to be looking at her.

The meeting ended and Ruth lingered before Dimitri dragged her away with a request for some intel she had been working on previously. Harry stood up and followed, the tie that joined them pulling at him to keep close.

It was business as usual on the grid, but not for them. For them it was something very new and very wonderful.

Finally Ruth managed to make it to his office, alone.

"I've brought you these," she said dropping a couple of files on his desk and leaning over his shoulder.

He half turned his head to her. They were close and the temptation was immense.

"Thank you," he breathed quietly.

"My pleasure," she said, her breath whispering across his ear.

"Oh and Harry, I thought you may have forgotten these," she slid a pair of handcuffs onto his desk before she crossed to the door where she paused, "I thought they might come in useful some time."

He looked at her, his face gave little away but his eyes, oh, his eyes said everything.

Ruth smiled, blushed and closed the door.

"You and Harry look really well considering what happened," said Beth.

"We were just lucky we found some shelter and could keep warm," said Ruth.

Beth wondered but said nothing.

There was something in the air.

It was tangible.

Towards the end of the day Harry had a meeting that couldn't be avoided. He had changed into a spare shirt and tie, which he kept in his office, but was still wearing the black jeans of the night before. It was an appealing look.

As he crossed to the pods he called across,

"Ruth, would you like to get some dinner later?"

The team were all on high alert, this was progress. Significant progress.

"Or are you tied up tonight?" he added.

Ruth was a good spook. Her demeanour didn't falter.

"I'm likely to be tied up, I think, Harry," she replied.

He nodded, "Right." And with that he was gone. Face deadpan.

"Poor old Harry," said Dimitri.


	13. Epilogue

Eplilogue

Harry came back on to the Grid. The first thing he did was look to her station. He was not disappointed, she was still there, unlike the rest of the team.

"How come we're the ones who've been abducted, mistreated and abandoned in the middle of nowhere and yet we're still here and the rest…."

"Are in The George," she finished, "though not before telling me that I should have gone out to dinner with you."

Harry laughed.

"Come home with me, Ruth. I have wine, sausages, mash, onion gravy and a very sturdy headboard."

His eyes twinkled.

"I bet that's not a chat up line you've used often," she laughed.

"Oh, I find it usually works very well."

She glared at him in mock indignation.

"Seriously, come home. I'm not sure I can make it through the night without you near me."

"Okay," she said simply, "but I'll need to call at mine and pick up some clothes."

"What will you say to Beth, if she's back?" asked Harry.

"I'll tell her I'm otherwise engaged," she smiled.

"No, Ruth don't tell her that."

Ruth wondered what was wrong.

"Don't tell her you're otherwise engaged. Just tell her that _you are_ engaged."

And he looked at her hopefully.

**The end (for us anyway!) Hope you have enjoyed.**


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